Chapter 71

As Valentine’s Days went, it was pretty epic.

No, make that more like superlative. Rocking. The best damn Valentine’s damn Day ever. Make that of any day, of the whole year, of the whole last decade.

Tina was on the phone, calling it in. “Yeah. Vitals are good. He’s had a nasty freeze, but I expect a full recovery.” She threw a glance at Sven, three trays of food in front of him in the lobby, in one of the big, puffy, white terry-cloth robes, long-johns underneath for extra warmth, with Oscar waiting on him, hand and foot.

It was quite a production.

“You like these? They are snails. They are said to bring strength back to men. To everything, but, especially to the man parts.” He gave Sven a searching look. “Do you need help with your man parts? Maybe in the cold, in the ice, they…”

Sven rolled his eyes.

Shut up already, you crazy Frenchman. My man parts are just…

And thinking of man parts? Damn it all—he wanted Keara. Though Jake was right beside him still—that bit was good.

He’d had feverish dreams, after he’d settled into the heat of the big fireplace and especially, into the heat of Keara’s body. And in those dreams, he’d denied himself nothing. He’d floated in warmth, then sank into her body. He’d kissed that sassy mouth, made her moan. Trailed soft nips down her neck to her ample breasts, played with them. After feasting on her pink nipples, he’d continued lower, and really made her scream.

Then, when she’d offered, he hadn’t said no. No reason to. He’d taken what she so willingly offered, thrust himself into her soft core, knowing they were really one.

And really made her scream, before she went limp. But damn it all. Once they were done, they both wanted to start again. And did.

Until Oscar unfortunately woke him, helped him go to the washroom, then guided him back to this spot in the lobby, with all the food.

Now the man was staring at him expectantly. Not having received a direct answer, or an answer of any sort and much to his chagrin, Oscar continued going through the delicious treats he’d prepared for the man he loved like his own brother.

“Here I have les petit pots de chocolate. Protein powder and collagen mixed in, from big, strong cows. Bulls!” he exclaimed, almost as an expletive. “They will make you strong. Make you recover!”

Sven pushed it all aside, suddenly. The man was too much. Just too bad for him, he loved him. Damn. Like a brother.

Like a holy hell, irritating, food-frantic brother. From a different mother, that was. “I can’t eat anymore. Let me go. Oscar!”

“Okay, but hurry back. I want you to try a little of everything.”

Sven laughed. If the avalanche doesn’t get you, or the elements, Oscar will. “Promise.”

Off he went to find Keara. He didn’t have to go far. There, in the ballroom, aka the new wing, she was holding court over quite a scene. He reached into his pocket, felt the little strand of wool. Still there. Breathed in a deep, solid breath. All was good.

There was his woman, the boss of the Snowy Peaks Valentine’s Day Love-A-Thon.

There were valentines everywhere. Not only were the little kids giving each other small, little cartoon valentines…that had always been the plan, he knew.

But all the seniors and the guests were also exchanging them. With each other. They’d gotten to know each other. Depended on each other through the emergency situation that had asserted itself on the little chalet the last few days, and they were now a team, with friendships forged. A few uneasy alliances, too. So the feelings, for the most part, were very genuine.

But everyone was honed in on the little kids.

And the excitement, the simple, shocking realization that there was so much love around them, shone on those little faces.

They’d had an incredibly exciting Valentine’s Day, though far from their families. And the love they’d experienced was written on their tiny faces. They were overwhelmed.

It was excellent to see.

And apparently, all that wasn’t going to stop. Many of the Terrence Point seniors, as well as that rich lady, had already signed up to volunteer at the kids’ wing, at Stonewater. Regularly.

Sven went up to Keara, put his arm around her, drew her close. Felt her surprise, then she melted into his side. “Williams is gone.”

She started. “For good?”

“No, just for a couple of weeks. But he withdrew that nonsense on Jake, after a very long email from Renata.” He looked amused. “Girl’s got a real knack for officialese. Must remember that knack. May come in handy again.”

Keara peered up at him, tightened her hold on him. “And you. Are you gone from here?”

“I got this email from him.” He showed her his phone, and her brows went up, as she read.

In light of current developments and the threat the recent avalanche posed—due to a foolhardy skier on a rescue mission—I feel Snowy Peaks, as a community leader, should be much more involved in the volunteer ski patrol (not the paid force, which we already employ), to prevent a recurrence of this dangerous incident.

Therefore, your work schedule will be equally divided among the chalet and the patrol. The first 2 weeks, after your rest and recovery period, and after I return, are to be entirely worked at the Terrence Point watch station.

If you have any issues with my decision, take it up immediately with my legal department. Otherwise, I will assume you will follow these non-negotiable conditions of your employment here.

Also, as regards [dog] Buddy Linn, he is officially registered as a Snowy Peaks PR dog. FYI, please liaise with Ms. Tara Lynn about ongoing PR on her Youtube channel.

As per [dog] Jake Golden, he is additionally registered as part-time avy dog and part-time PR dog, for Snowy Peaks. Benefits are extended to both animals, as per our always generous employment package, courtesy of the Snowy Peaks organization.

See you in 2 weeks. Off the grid until then.

FYI-Performance Review for both you and Ms. Linn. Feb. 13., 9 a.m.”

-KWilliams She raised her brows. “Feb. 13, 9 a.m.? But that’s passed already.”

“Yeah, he forgot to put the year. I asked about that.” He grinned. “It’s next year.”

She chortled, eyes bright. “Ha. So you made it! You got everything you wanted.”

“You, too. Everyone’s raving about this Valentine’s Day. Even though practically none of your events were pulled off, after that first day.” He elbowed her teasingly. “Slacker.”

Keara, though, put a finger under her chin, mused. “We did miss the naming of the sculpture. I heard quite a bit about that, that people were looking forward to it. And don’t want it forgotten.”

Sven shook his head. “No problem. We’ll do it next year. Next year, we’ll do another V Day event. We’ll build off this one.”

Keara eyed him. “What do you mean? Have a bunch of people get snowed in and have all kinds of emergency stuff happen? And mount a rescue, through the night at 4 a.m.? Then…”

He chuckled, but not too hard. It hadn’t been too many hours ago that all that had been real, with him in the crosshairs. Out in the snowfields, alone. In real danger.

Which had led those he loved to put themselves squarely into danger, too. Keara, both dogs. The others as well. Them, he understood. He didn’t like it, but they were better trained. She’d been an absolute newb.

Yeah. There was that heart of hers, again. All there…when he’d needed her.

He couldn’t think of it, to be honest. What could have happened to her, and little Jake. What they’d risked…because they loved him. Pure and simple. He hurried to pack the thoughts away, with the understanding he’d pull them out in the future, when he could stand scrutinizing them.

“No. But maybe we’ll get people out here that can’t afford something like this, normally, but that really need the break. And maybe we’ll get the seniors involved again, to give back.”

“So in other words, a total repeat of this year, except for the life-threatening stuff.”

He winked, tugged her tight against his side. “Yeah. Something like that.”

She smiled at him mischievously. “It’s a deal. Though I might see about a special event, all around that angel, before that. Everyone was really sorry to have missed it. I’ll do some research, find out more about it, and then…”

His attention caught as he heard a cry, and they both turned toward a group nearby.

To the man wincing, in real pain. Christian had just gone to pick up one of the kids close by and had actually cried out, apparently surprised by unexpected pain. Now he was holding his upper arm, while Archie was consoling the little kid—still on the ground—with cheerful words. They watched as Archie cast a worried look at Christian. The man just shook his head and smiled, but there was an aura of untruth around it. He bent and said something to the child. They all strode toward the table of snacks in the far corner of the great lobby, where Martha and Klaire had set up ongoing provisions to feed those who might need food at unusual times in the emergency situation, seeing as there also wasn’t room service, at the moment.

Sven’s heart skipped a beat. “Arctic Cobra’s hurt.”

* * *

Keara looked up to watch Sven’s serious assessment of Christian, saw the thoughts parade by on his face. Her strong, determined, good-hearted soldier. Even now, he was thinking of others. It was simply who he was.

She leaned into him, anxious to feel him against her again. He didn’t know all that had gone into his rescue, on snow-covered Terrence Point mountain, in the dark of the night. One day they’d tell him. “He…he had to work exceptionally hard to help Dante get you out.” She paused. “They both did.”

Understanding dawned in his darkened eyes. “Oh, no.”

“Yeah. He has an old injury, something about tennis, he said. He’s been doing work on it, apparently, was pretty much almost healed, but he still needed a stretch of careful time.” Worry sprouted in her face. “He did go all out. For a while there…”

“Shit.”

“Nonsense. You’re here, and that’s what matters. He was massaging it earlier, and I asked him about it. He’ll heal. Until then, he’ll deal with it. Don’t you worry.”

Sven nodded, but she knew it wasn’t as simple as that. Something flickered in his gaze.

“What?”

“I remember that injury, and between you and me, it’s not tennis. That’s nonsense he spouts to take attention off his service. It’s a war injury, from Delta North.” His face set in a grim expression, his jaw tight.

A wince took over her face quickly, too. “He’s hiding it?”

“Man’s deep. He was a damn hero, for all that he doesn’t barely let on to anyone he’s ex-special ops, or that he served at all. Needs to hide it, for some reason. Not sure what’s going on there. But I’m damn glad he was there for me…for all of us…last night.”

Something far away lit Sven’s gaze, and she knew. He was going to be doing a lot of thinking in the next little while. No doubt, stark gratitude for what his friends and brothers had done for him would remain at the top of the list. She got it. Anyone good would be the same.

She knew she was crazy grateful to have escaped a certain man’s clutches too, the same night. Aware of what could have happened if it had all gone only slightly differently…

But they both needed to heal from all that. She was determined to distract Sven from it, and get him on to more positive things. “So, yeah. Back to the contest. I’m going to do serious research on the sculpture soon. For some reason, it seems to have captured everyone’s fancy. I’m betting there’s a story there. If I can find out…”

“Hey!” He pushed her away, looked in her eyes. “I almost forgot.”

“What?”

His eyes widened at her “Your thesis?”

“Oh that,” she shook her head. “Not done. I had to decide between rescuing you, or finishing it and sending it off. It was a hard decision,” she winked, “but yeah. I didn’t make the immovable, critical, holy hell deadline. But don’t worry. I’m still in the running.”

“Wha…how?

“An extension.” She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, another one. More letters, from police organizations, to the university. When Dane found out I missed the deadline and why, he told me not to worry. He heard from the TO cops that they squashed the startup of the dogfighting rings. Again, because of the info I provided them. They’re thrilled to write more letters, he said, and he’s adding his. And his supervisor’s. My Uni advisor already texted me.”

“But good grief,” she added, with heat. “They’re going to be sick of me. I’m continually getting involved in criminal stuff. Still my minor, apparently. Getting in weird trouble. They’re going to want to wash their hands of me.” She grinned up at him. “But apparently—not yet.”

Her cell buzzed, signaled multiple texts coming in. She flicked a glance down. Chuckled. “Effie. Ilona. They’re going wild.” Her voice thickened. “From far away, but they were there for us during this whole thing. One prayed, and one did her Reiki thing. Sent floods of good energy, for you, and me. Stayed up, with us. Now they want to videophone with you, Mister. Meet you. I’m proprietary, you know. And they have to decide if you’ll do.”

But Sven was pointing away from the new wing. “Look.”

Oscar was out in the lobby, wildly waving off interested seniors, who were nosing around the trays. “No! This is for our hero. Sven! Heroes must be fed, and fed well, after their hero-ing. They must be nurtured. Cared for. They are…”

She laughed. “You better go and get your food.”

“He’s got to lay off that hero stuff, for crap’s sake. If we’re talking heroes, there are too many here. You. Christian. Jake. Dante.” His eyes roamed over the many people—Edna, Harold, Old man Jones, the chalet stuff—still present in the large lobby, all making their own contributions to the goings on. “They’re all heroes, every damn one.” His voice lowered. “For the want of a nail…”

The old rhyme came to her mind, and she understood in a flash. And agreed.

Without the contribution of every single person there over the last few days, for the most part, things could have gone vastly different. A butterfly’s wings flapping…

Sven abruptly yanked her close. “I’ll go, get the food. But first? I want my real food.” He murmured. “Right here. Right now. Before tonight, and all the rest of the days and nights in our cabin, with our two crazy mutts. I want a little taste. Okay?”

She melted into him. But her words said different. Were sassy. “Nuh-uh. Not without a valentine.”

He blinked, surprised. “Well then, it’s a damn good thing I picked one up for you.”

He pulled a slightly crumpled, shiny red, cardboard kid’s valentine out of his pocket. “The kids saved this one.”

She blinked at it, was incredibly touched. “For me?”

His voice went a tiny bit hoarse. “For me, to give to you. They all pushed it at me, told me to get doing what needed to be done.”

“Oh,” she breathed, and suddenly halted. Stared at it. She smoothed it out carefully, found her hands shaking, just a bit. And there it was. A little skunk, with hope in its big eyes, speaking to a slender little fawn.

She flicked a glance toward the new wing, saw a few of the kids watching them. Intently.

Her throat was suddenly full. “Me?” She pointed at the pretty, dainty little fawn.

He didn’t take his eyes off hers. “You.” 

She read the message. Will you be mine? Forever?

And the bigness of the tiny red piece of paper, hit her. Just a little piece of cardboard. Here she’d been scoffing at valentines the whole time she’d been here. For years, actually. Thinking they weren’t important. Didn’t mean anything. Not in the grand scheme of life, of doing. Of getting things done.

When in fact, they meant everything.

Everything.

Especially when you added the sweetness and love of a bunch of sick kids, putting their hearts out there. For them.

It dazzled her.

“So?” He gazed into her eyes, a smile, but hope and a bit of uncertainty percolated behind them, too. A question. The question, for her.

After all this. Didn’t he know?

Her eyes misted. “Already am.”

He pulled her into his arms and bent, just as Tara Lynn appeared.

And as usual, tried to hog the show.

“Sven, oh Sugar Li…oh Sugar Bo…oh, I mean, oh hell. Just Sven.” She stood there glaring as he ignored her, and planted a full-lipped, full-mouthed doozy of a kiss on Keara, who swooned into him. In front of everyone.

And his hands were locked around her waist, resting on that glorious ass.

“Look at them,” old man Jones glowered, but Keara saw, out of the corner of her eye, there was a tell-tale spark in that glower, and he wasn’t mad.

Just trying to piss off the gorgeous Tara Lynn?

And he was succeeding. Good on him.

“Always at it. Good grief,” he called out loudly, to anyone who would listen, as he loped away. “Get a room.”